


of panicked paranoia and pointy swords

by Smiley5494



Series: Merthur Week 2020 [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Day 3, Day 3: “You’re hurt. Please just let me heal it.” + Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Merthur Week 2020, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Tournaments, Whump, arthur had plans goddamnit, not much at all!!, this isn’t mentioned but it’s important to me that you know that, very mild!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28252557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smiley5494/pseuds/Smiley5494
Summary: Day 3: “You’re hurt. Please, just let me heal it.” + Hurt/ComfortIt took three days of Merlin’s obsessive checking and double-checking before Arthur took pity on their guests and dragged his Court Sorcerer away.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merthur Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067861
Comments: 14
Kudos: 112
Collections: Merthur Week 2020





	of panicked paranoia and pointy swords

It was at that time of year when Arthur decided it would be a good idea to let a bunch of highly trained people from all over Albion enter Camelot with weapons and fight for prestige and fame. It was at that time of year when Merlin always got paranoid and worried over the littlest things. Everyone entering the tournament was inspected and personally vetted by Merlin. As Court Sorcerer, he had the power to inspect the weapons people brought, and he had the ability to do it himself.

It took three days of Merlin’s obsessive checking and double-checking before Arthur took pity on their guests and dragged his Court Sorcerer away.

For the next week—while people were arriving and checking in with Leon—Arthur distracted Merlin with picnics and whenever he couldn’t, he got the rest of the round table and Morgana’s help in keeping Merlin too busy to obsess over the _what-ifs_.

Somehow, possibly thanks to a long-overdue streak of good luck, Arthur managed to keep Merlin distracted until the tournament began. Then there was nothing he could do, his job was to compete as well as he could and hopefully secure Camelot a win.

Arthur fought as well as he always did—anyone who claimed he was distracted by Merlin’s official Court Sorcerer outfit was defeated with surprising prejudice—and quickly qualified his way into the finale. As he was competing, it fell to a council of judges from each competing kingdom to make sure no one was cheating; the judges from Camelot were Morgana, Merlin and Gwaine (who’d broken his arm in a Tavern brawl over whether or not Merlin was worthy of Court Sorcerer, Arthur was so proud of Gwaine he rescinded the lifelong ban from the local tavern).

It was the finale and Arthur’s opponent—Sir Cadell of Gawant—was close to twice his size, and carried a blade nearly as thick as Arthur’s skull. All the blades were blunted—it was the one thing that Arthur didn’t distract Merlin from doing—so he was in no danger of getting cut open. That thought didn’t make the fact that this man looked like he could rip Arthur apart limb-from-limb any easier to deal with.

The round started as rounds always did, with a mutual battle cry and the clash of swords against swords.

Cadell was stronger than Arthur in brute force, but Arthur was smaller and faster, and they were evenly matched for the most part. Arthur spent most of his time dodging and striking strategically at exposed areas—namely the knees and neck. Cadell seemed to have a similar idea, and his blade was far longer than Arthur was used to fighting against.

It was for that reason that the hit connected, and Arthur forced himself to stay conscious as he blinked stars from his vision. He dodged another hefty swing and found himself swaying. Cadell raised his sword up and Arthur could tell he was going in for another swing.

Arthur flung himself to one side, stuck out his legs and tripped the larger knight. Sir Cadell of Gawant went down in a heap of limbs and Arthur put his sword at the man’s throat—a killing blow if they were sharpened.

The round ended and the adrenaline left Arthur’s body. He stumbled, swaying more dangerously than before. Somehow, possibly magic, Merlin was by his side.

“Oh Arthur,” Merlin sighed, “c’mon, let me take a look.”

“No,” Arthur protested, “I need to—”

“You’re hurt,” Merlin said pragmatically, “Please, just let me heal it.”

Arthur tilted his head to let Merlin see, and winced when Merlin’s expert fingers found the painful lump on his head. Merlin’s healing magic always felt cold, but not freezing—pleasant in a way Arthur couldn’t articulate.

“Marry me.” He said instead, and Merlin froze.

“Arthur,” he replied carefully, “are you being serious?”

“Yeah,” Arthur decided, he’d had _plans_ goddamnit, now _this_ was how he was proposing. “Will you marry me, Merlin?”

Merlin choked on his breath, and Arthur looked up, suddenly afraid that he’d say no.

“Arthur—” Merlin’s voice broke, “Yes, yes you clotpole, of course— _I wanted to propose, damn you_ —it’s a yes!”

Arthur met his fiancé’s eyes, and the two of them met in a searing kiss. The world could’ve ended and Arthur wouldn’t notice—too wrapped up in Merlin to hear the cheers of the crowd.


End file.
